On Jan. 7, I was leaving the 10:00 a.m. Chapel service, having participated by playing for Kevin Briggs’ offertory solo. I was feeling quite good that morning. It had snowed, but everything had been taken care of by the facilities crew. I was walking on what seemed like a perfectly cleaned brick walkway. As I walked away from the chapel, I was singing along with the Doxology while thinking about rehearsal with the Chancel Choir. In a split second I became aware that I was airborne
As many of you know, my title at the church is Scholar in Residence and Minister of Spiritual Formation, a title with “and” in there. But that’s not the “and” I mean to reference in the title of this article. When I think about
spiritual formation, I think naturally about how persons mature in their faith, which for me implies “and” in the process. Specifically: learning and doing.
My 3-year-old grandson walks over to his 1-month-old sister, picks up her hand, wraps her tiny fingers into a fist and reaches out his clenched hand to give her a little fist bump. Then he kisses her on the head and runs off to play Spiderman. She does not yet know his name or who he is and yet his small acts of love are shaping her life already. Psychoanalyst Christopher Bollas says “We learn the grammar of our being before we learn language.”
“Self-compassion is key because when we’re able to be gentle with ourselves in the midst of shame, we’re more likely to reach out, connect, and experience empathy.” – Brene Brown
We are our own worst critics. You have probably heard that cliché a hundred times.
I look out and a beautiful woman who has been sitting alone for five years is now sitting in a different section, laughing knowingly with a group of friends. A grandmother on the third row is reaching over the edge of the wooden pew to display her shiny amethyst ring …
By Rev. Catherine Stark-Corn, Interim Minister to Youth, Children, and Families “You had to be here from the beginning,” I chastise my husband as he walks in half way through a show I am watching. He immediately says this doesn’t make sense. He asks questions that show he is a …
A year ago this week, I was buying a new suit to interview for the position of Senior Minister at the church where I had spent most of my adult life. (In case I needed new clothes to impress you!) My stomach was in knots. I was hopeful and excited. I still feel butterflies as I remember the night the board voted to call me. I was pinching myself and my heart was pounding in my throat!
The life and legacy of Rev. Billy Graham has been on my mind since his death. When anyone dies it is natural to pause and reflect on his or her life and what we learn from their triumphs and missteps. In Rev. Graham’s case, his ministry is so interwoven with history that it beckons us to look back on our collective journey during his 99 years.
Do you remember the story about the woman sitting in a lecture when the speaker announced “that the average Episcopalian invites a friend to church once every 21 years”? And the lady exclaimed “Oh, good, I don’t have to do that for another 11 years.” There are good reasons for not inviting folks.
Space does not permit me to name the differences between serving in the seminary and the local church, although as Fred Craddock used to rightly remind folks, the seminary is the education wing of the church. One year ago, I began my time at Country Club Christian as the interim guest preacher. A year later I’m on staff full-time. Many of you have asked how it’s going, do I like it, those sorts of inquiries.
During these 40 days of Lent, many of us look for ways to deepen the spiritual journey. One way is to pray, to have a conversation with the Divine One. But getting started with prayer isn’t always so easy. First you need to get yourself in the right frame of mind. One way that I like to pray is to first open a book